


Crossroads

by MirrorMystic



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Post-Canon, Pre-Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: "If you love someone, let them go."In the hectic weeks after the war, Faye sets aside time for hello-- and goodbye.
Relationships: Anthiese | Celica/Efi | Faye, Efi | Faye/Silque
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter at @mystic_writes

~*~   
  
They’re calling it ‘the Dragonfall’.   
  
It’s a day that will go down in history. A chain of events that will change the world, like the first trickling pebbles that begin a landslide. Alm and Celica are crowned King and Queen of the One Kingdom of Valentia. The Duma Faithful scatter into the wind alongside packs of leaderless, feral Terrors, becoming the haunts of rural villages and the boogeymen in bedtime stories rather than a force that threatened nations. The gods are dead. The war is over.    
  
And yet, there is no peace. At least, not for everyone.    
  
Zofia Castle was one place where peace and quiet were in short supply. The capital is abuzz with activity at all hours. The past month has been an exhausting string of feasts, galas, speeches, ceremonies, and the accompanying mountain of paperwork and tedious bureaucracy.    
  
Despite all this, however, Faye isn’t tired. She’s restless, distracted, anxiety trickling down her arms and pooling in her fingers as she drums them against the wooden tabletop.    
  
“Faye?”   
  
Faye sits up with a start. Above her, Silque looms with a raised eyebrow, teapot in hand.    
  
“...I said, ‘would you like some tea?’”   
  
“Oh. Yeah,” Faye mutters. “...Sorry.”   
  
Silque pours her a cup and returns to her seat. Faye’s hands curl around the warm porcelain, quieting her trembling fingers. The tea is too dark to see her own reflection. Part of her is grateful. She’d rather not be reminded of the bags under her eyes. She spends a long moment, just staring down into her tea.    
  
“Faye,” Silque echoes, nudging Faye’s knee with her own. “Are you alright?”   
  
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Faye sighs.    
  
She takes a sip of her tea. Silque’s made it just like she likes it-- strong, bitter, bracing. Just the sort of pick-me-up Faye needs when Fleecer’s Forest is still frosted over and she has snares to reset.    
  
“Are you sure?” Silque prods. “You’ve barely touched your food.”   
  
“I’m not very hungry,” Faye mutters. She glances up at Silque’s plate, sporting nothing but crumbs. “What about you? Where’d it all go?”   
  
Silque laughs and glances away, embarrassed.    
  
“...S-Sorry,” Silque says with a sheepish smile. “ I was just glad they were serving something other than fish.”   
  
Faye chuckles, despite everything. “I dunno. This stuff’s a little dry. A little bland. If you want, I could cook for you sometime, and I’ll show you how to make a  _ real _ meat pie.”   
  
“I’d like that,” Silque coos.    
  
Faye grins and glances at the table, her cheeks warm.    
  
Silque clears her throat. “So, um. Where are you going after this?”   
  
“Home, I guess,” Faye shrugs. “There’s nowhere else I was planning on going, except stopping by Lukas’ office to pick up my stipend so I’d have some spending money on the road home. What about you? What are you going to do?”   
  
“What I was supposed to be doing, before I got waylaid by bandits and wrapped up in  _ this _ nonsense,” Silque laughs. “As much as I enjoy receiving the royal treatment, I’m still a cleric. I can’t spend all my days in the comfort of castles. My place is among the people, among those in need. After the Dragonfall, there will be no shortage of those.”   
  
“A pilgrimage?” Faye wonders. “In a land without gods?”   
  
“My healing power is already fading,” Silque says, somber, wisps of soothing green light glimmering at her fingertips, “but it is not gone. Not yet. And I intend to do some good with it, wherever I can, for as long as I can. For as long as Mila continues to provide.”   
  
“Maybe it isn’t Mila,” Faye muses. “Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s always been you.”   
  
A pensive shadow flicks across Silque’s face, her lips dipping into a frown. An instant later, she eases into a fond smile, meeting Faye’s eyes.    
  
“Well,” Silque teases, “aren’t you the sweetest blasphemer I’ve ever met?”   
  


“Top three, at  _ least _ ,” Faye grins.    
  
They laugh together, sharing warm looks and bumping their knees together under the table. After a moment, Faye’s smile fades, growing somber.    
  
“...Hey,” she says gently, “you know there are still Terrors running around, right? Are you going to be okay, traveling by yourself?”   
  
Silque takes a deep breath.    
  
“...About that,” she begins, suddenly shy. “I was thinking I could use a traveling companion. Someone who’s a fair hand with a sword, a bow… someone who knows their way around herbs. Medicine, especially, for if, or when, magical healing is no longer enough. And… I think I know someone who’d be perfect for the job.”   
  
Faye blinks. “...Like a bodyguard?”   
  
Silque smiles. “...Or a friend.”   
  
Silque scrapes her chair back and stands up, smoothing the creases from her habit. She clasps her hands in front of her waist, and bows her head in deference.    
  
“Faye,” Silque begins, her voice trembling with nerves, “would you… join me?”   
  
Faye stares at her, speechless. When her voice returns, a long moment later, the best she can manage is a squeal.    
  
“Yes!” Faye cries. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”   
  
Silque’s relieved laughter becomes a wheeze as Faye launches herself out of her chair and into her arms. She stumbles backwards, bumping her head on the wall, and Faye’s elation becomes squealed apologies and sheepish laughter. Silque’s smile shines like the full moon, gentle and serene.    
  
“Oh, Faye…” she coos. “Now, I feel I should warn you, it’s not quite as glamorous as people think. There’s a lot of walking, a lot of waiting, a lot of scurrying between house calls. There’s going to be sickness and melancholy and cheap inns with stiff beds…”   
  
“Oh, no, no, no,” Faye tuts. “Don’t try to talk me out of it. I already agreed. You’re stuck with me.”   
  
Silque giggles. “All I’m saying is, it’s not going to be easy…”   
  
“It’ll be easier with a friend,” Faye beams.    
  
Silque melts, overcome with affection. She squeezes Faye as tight as she can.    
  
“Oh, Faye…” Silque begins, then trails off, gazing into Faye’s eyes. Ocean blue meets warm chestnut, and Faye shudders, Silque’s breath ghosting across her lips. She’s so close. Close enough that if Faye just leaned in a little more…   
  
They both glance away, their cheeks burning. Silque clears her throat, changing tack.    
  
“Faye,” she tries again, smiling. “What do you say to going on another adventure?”   
  
Faye grins. “When do we start?”   
  
“Tomorrow,” Silque says, reluctantly releasing Faye from their embrace. “As soon as we’re packed and ready to hit the road. As soon as we’ve finished any business we have in the castle. You’ll have to pick up your pay from serving the Deliverance, of course. Do you have anything else you’d need to do before we set out?”   
  
“No, I don’t think so,” Faye says-- too quickly.    
  
Bells clang above them, sounding the hour. Seven tolls for seven bells past noon. The noise jolts Faye out of her rush of excitement, a shadow passing over her face-- and her thoughts.    
  
Faye looks out the window, across the inner courtyard of Zofia Castle to the Great Hall below. She takes a deep breath and sighs, like an autumn breeze sending stray leaves skittering down the street.    
  
“...Well…” Faye murmurs, wringing her hands, “there is  _ one _ thing.”   
  
~*~   
  
They wait in a sitting room adjacent to the Great Hall, in plush, velvet-lined chairs Faye suspects to be worth more than her entire cabin back in Ram. Banners hang from the ceiling fluttering in the evening breeze. A diamond-framed crest of a lion sitting guard at the base of a tree, with stripes flowing down to the banner’s tail in alternating green and gold-- the newly designed banners of a united Valentia.    
  
Faye, for her part, is in no mood to appreciate Zofia Castle’s interior decorating. She’s nervous, terrified even, balling her fists in the fabric of her dress until Silque gives her something better to hold onto.    
  
“Breathe,” Silque urges. Faye takes her hand in both of hers, squeezing until the anxiety drains away. They say that holding a teacup evokes the same warmth and comfort as holding hands, but Silque’s warmer and more soothing than a cup of tea by far.    
  
“Right,” Faye takes a deep breath, and lets it out slow. She swallows hard. “...Right.”   
  
“It’s going to be alright,” Silque presses. “She’s a friend. She’s our  _ friend _ .”   
  
Faye glances away, her throat tight. “I don’t know  _ what _ she is.”   
  
Silque tips Faye’s chin up until their eyes meet, and Faye’s throat tightens for an entirely new reason.    
  
“Faye,” Silque says gently, “it’s going to be alright.”   
  
Silque’s ocean-blue eyes hold such depths of care and conviction that in the moment, she could’ve told Faye the sky was falling and she would have believed her. Faye takes a shuddering breath, before leaning forward, touching her forehead to Silque’s.    
  
“Okay,” she exhales. “Okay.”   
  
Behind them, a young castle page clears his throat.    
  
“Excuse me, my ladies. Her Majesty will see you now.”   
  
“Thank you,” Silque says with a nod, as the boy scurries off to his other duties. She turns back to Faye, giving her hand a firm squeeze and helping her out of her chair. She dusts off Faye’s cloak and smoothes the wrinkles Faye’s crumpled into her dress with all her hand-wringing.    
  
“Silque,” Faye murmurs, as Silque fusses over her, “you’re so good to me.”   
  
“That’s what I’m here for,” Silque smiles, matter-of-fact. She glances up, meeting Faye’s eyes. “...You know I would go with you if you just said the word.”   
  
“I know,” Faye nods. “But this is something I have to do myself.”   
  
“Okay. I’ll be right out here if you need me,” Silque says. She takes Faye’s shoulders with a squeeze, and, dissatisfied with that send-off, pulls Faye into a hug.    
  
Faye sinks into her embrace, holding her tight.    
  
“You’re the best,” she murmurs into Silque’s throat.    
  
“I know,” Silque murmurs back. “Good luck.”   
  
~*~   
  
If Faye had been in the mood to make jokes, she’d have noted that it seemed pretty scandalous for Celica, a Queen, to invite her to her bedchambers after dark. But Celica had insisted-- the Great Hall was too public, too impersonal.    
  
Celica’s private chambers had gone through some redecorating of their own, in favor of more modest accommodation. More modest, in fact, than the sitting room Faye and Silque had waited in. Celica had lived in a monastery, after all, and in a rural village before that. She didn’t need silk sheets. And while Faye still feels woefully underdressed to be talking to royalty, at least this room doesn’t make her feel like dropping a teacup would put her in lifelong debt.    
  
“Faye!” Celica beams as she glides across the floor in a tasteful gown the color of sunset.    
  
Celica’s arms are open in invitation, a wordless question in her eyes. Faye lets Celica draw her into an embrace, and as much as part of Faye savors Celica’s warmth, another part of her curls in on itself, knotted with grief and guilt and a dozen other feelings Faye can’t quite name.    
  
“Tea?” Celica offers as they part, gesturing to a table in the corner.    
  
“Oh, yes, please,” Faye says, feeling that familiar anxiety creeping back into her fingers.    
  
She takes a seat at the table as Celica pours them both a cup. This table’s a bit bigger than the one Silque has in her room. When Celica takes a seat opposite, her knees don’t knock into Faye’s. There’s a space between them that makes Faye’s heart ache.    
  
Faye curls her fingers around her warm teacup. In her mind’s eye, the warmth stilling the anxiety in her fingers isn’t Celica’s hands. It’s Silque’s.    
  
“I tried to get your favorite blend,” Celica says, suddenly shy. “I hope you like it.”   
  
Faye takes a sip. It’s… fine. A little weak. A little too sweet. Like fond memories, fading yet caramelized by time. This  _ was _ her favorite tea blend, when she was still a child, and Celica was still her best friend, and the world was smaller and simpler than it is today. But Faye doesn’t say all that.    
  
“It’s good,” she mutters instead, as she puts on a stiff smile.    
  
“Faye,” Celica says softly, earnestly, “it’s really good to see you.”   
  
Her voice snags Faye’s heart like a fishhook. She gasps, eyes wet, her smile growing more genuine. “It’s really good to see you, too, Celica.”   
  
“I wish we had more time to catch up properly,” Celica continues. “These last few weeks have been so busy. The most we’ve seen of each other has been at the parties-- but even then, it’s not the same, is it?”   
  
“No,” Faye chuckles. “I’ve never been one for ballrooms. I’d rather have a quiet night in, y’know? Do some baking, sit by the fire while we wait for the pies to come out of the oven. Something simple, you know? No frills.”   
  
“That sounds amazing,” Celica sighs, wistful. “No offense to the castle kitchen staff, but none of them can make a pie like you. I’ve missed your cooking. I’ve missed  _ you _ , Faye. So, so much.”   
  
“Celica…” Faye murmurs. She stands, scraping her chair back. “I-- I’m sorry, but is there somewhere else we can sit? You’re just so far away.”   
  
Celica blinks up at her. “O-Oh, yes, of course!”   
  
Celica leads her over to a plush, velvet-lined chaise lounge. Celica takes a seat, and Faye settles in beside her, giggling in surprise when she starts sinking into the cushions.    
  
“Sorry,” Celica smiles, sheepish.    
  
“It’s a far cry from my parents’ old bearskin rug,” Faye laughs.    
  
“Oh, I loved that rug,” Celica coos. “I loved spending nights at your place, lying on that rug together in front of the fire, just talking about everything and nothing at all.”   
  
“I still have it.”   
  
“You do?”   
  
“Yeah,” Faye grins. “If you want, you can come over. For old times’ sake.”   
  
“Maybe I will,” Celica smiles, meeting Faye’s eyes. Faye can’t help but smile back, and scoot a little closer on the couch so their knees are touching.    
  
Celica lays her hand, palm up, on Faye’s knee. Faye takes her hand, and links their fingers together without any fuss.    
  
“I missed you,” Faye breathes, the confession lifting a weight from her chest. “When you left, I was just so… so lonely. I mean, sure, I still had the guys. And Alm, he… he tried. When you left, it hit the two of us the hardest. He tried so hard to be there for me. But it wasn’t the same. I went back to being the only girl in a town full of boys. You were the only one who really understood me.”   
  
Celica gives Faye’s hand a tender squeeze.    
  
“Is it meaningless to apologize?” Celica wonders.    
  
“No,” Faye breathes. “Never.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Celica whispers. “It’s not fair. It wasn’t my choice, and it wasn’t my intent, but that doesn’t matter. I left, and I hurt you… and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Because you deserve more than loneliness, Faye. You deserve the world.”   
  
Faye shudders. She reaches up and dabs at her eyes with the edge of her cloak.    
  
“How is he?” Faye murmurs, changing tack. “Alm, I mean.”   
  
“Busy,” Celica says, rueful. “We’re both so busy. And we both barely know what we’re doing. Running a kingdom is just… it’s a lot to take in. It’s a little overwhelming, honestly. I’d give anything to go back to when we were kids in Ram, and the worst things we ever had to worry about were getting our chores done before we could go swimming in the creek. I would almost rather be fighting Terrors again-- sure, it’s dangerous, but there’s a simplicity in fighting monsters. Politics…”    
  
Celica rolls her eyes, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face.    
  
“Politics is exhausting.”   
  
“Well…” Faye ventures with a shrug and a gentle smile. “...it’s easier with a friend, right?”   
  
Celica’s expression softens, turns tender. “...Yeah.”   
  
“Where is Alm now?” Faye wonders. “Busy with King stuff, I imagine.”   
  
“Oh, he, um… he’s around,” Celica glances away, awkward. “He… didn’t think you’d want to see him.”   
  
“What!” Faye stares at her. “Why?”   
  
“He’s been worried that you might… hate him,” Celica admits with a wince. “Frankly, ever since the wedding, and until I heard that you’d requested this audience with me, I was worried that you might hate me, too.”   
  
“That’s absurd!” Faye balks. “Celica, you’re my friend. Alm’s my friend, too! I could never hate you, either of you! ...Quite the opposite, in fact.”   
  
Celica looks up, intrigued. Faye clears her throat and glances away.    
  
“Look, I know I haven’t always been the best friend,” Faye mutters. “I’ve been… angry, and confused, and selfish… and jealous. But even when we were kids, even when you and Alm would spend time together without me, I didn’t know-- I didn’t always know  _ who _ I was jealous of.”   
  
Celica looks up sharply. “What?”   
  
“I was twelve! I didn’t know what to call it,” Faye insists.   
  
“Faye,” Celica tugs at Faye’s arm, searching her eyes. “Faye, what are you saying?”   
  
Faye exhales. “I think… I might have been… a little bit… in love with you.”   
  
Celica sits back in her chair, stunned. She blows out a sigh.    
  
“Oh, Faye…” she mutters, shaking her head. “I think… I might have been a little bit in love with you, too.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
“...Yeah.”   
  
“Wow,” Faye breathes. “I-- I don’t-- I don’t know what to say.”   
  
“Well, aren’t we a pair of fools?” Celica laughs, but it’s a pained laugh. “I wish we’d known what to call those feelings, back then. Mila, I wish we’d  _ said _ something. I wish…”   
  
“...I wish...” Faye says softly, like a prayer. “I wish we had more time.”   
  
“We do, don’t we?” Celica whispers, with a plaintive, fragile hope. “The war’s over. We have all the time in the world.”   
  
Faye heaves a sigh that could move mountains.    
  
“...No. We don’t,” Faye says quietly. “That’s what I came to tell you. I’m leaving.”   
  
“What?” Celica gasps.    
  
“Silque’s going on a pilgrimage across Valentia,” Faye explains. “Tending the war-wounded. She, um… she asked me to go with her. We leave tomorrow.”   
  
Celica opens her mouth as if to say something. Closes it again.    
  
“...I see,” she manages at last.    
  
“I’m sorry,” Faye says, instinctive, without really knowing what she’s apologizing for. “I could write you, of course, but you might not be able to write me back. You know how long it takes for letters to get sent out. By the time your letter arrives, we might have already moved on…”   
  
“Shh,” Celica urges. She takes Faye’s hands in hers, holding her until her fingers stop shaking. She leans in, searching Faye’s eyes.    
  
“I understand,” Celica says, with the dignity and poise of a Queen. “I’m happy for you. Silque’s a dear friend. She’s a good woman. You’re lucky to have her, and she-- she’s lucky to have you.”   
  
“I just--” Faye took a shuddering breath. “--I just didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”   
  
Faye stood, pulling Celica up with her.    
  
“Do you remember the day Mycen took you away?” Faye murmurs.   
  
“Of course,” Celica says. “How could I forget? You made me a necklace, and I gave you… my…”   
  
Faye reaches up to the ribbon the color of sunset tied in a bow around her neck. She tugs the knot loose, and offers the length of ribbon to Celica in an outstretched hand.    
  
Celica’s voice breaks. “It’s yours,” she protests.    
  
“No, it’s not,” Faye whispers gently. “Maybe it could have been. In another time. In another life…”   
  
“Faye, please don’t do this,” Celica begs.    
  
“It’s yours, Celica. Take it. Please.”   
  
Celica reaches up, clasping Faye’s hands. Their eyes meet, fiery crimson and warm chestnut.    
  
“Is it too late for us?” Celica breathes.   
  
“...I think it is,” Faye says, mournful. “I’m sorry.”   
  
Celica looks away, stung. Faye sighs, pulls the ribbon from Celica’s fingers and curls her arms around Celica’s neck, tying the ribbon into Celica’s hair.    
  
“It’s okay,” Faye shudders, as if she’s trying to convince herself, too. “We’re not who we were back then, and that’s not a bad thing. I mean, look at you, Celica. You’re beautiful. You’re a Queen. You’ll be okay without me. You’ve  _ been _ okay without me--”   
  
Celica’s lips crash into Faye’s own. Faye melts into Celica’s arms, reeling from the force of the kiss. Celica’s kiss is fierce, passionate, filled with a fire desperate not to go out. Faye half-moans, half-sobs into Celica’s mouth as she kisses her back-- and hers is full of longing, loneliness, of things unsaid, the fragile hope of reunion and the weight of goodbyes.    
  
They stand there together for a long moment, locked in an embrace, framed by a banner of a united Valentia. Their paths stretch before them like the stripes and diamonds of the banner behind them. Parallel lines, side by side so long as they never touch, only to finally meet at a crossroads-- once, and then never again.    
  
They part, gasping, from the kiss. Their first, and their last.    
  
“I loved you, Celica,” Faye chokes out. “Goodbye.”   
  
She turns and runs, her cloak flying behind her. Celica can only stare in shock for a moment before she races after her, calling her name.    
  
“Faye!” Celica shrieks, desperate. “Faye, wait!”   
  
Faye bursts into the waiting room and makes Silque drop her book with a start.    
  
“Faye?” Silque wonders, but she’s already running.    
  
Celica, giving chase, trips over her skirts in the doorway. Silque catches her, asks her what’s going on, but the anguished look in Celica’s eyes says all she needs to say.    
  
“Come on,” Silque says, resolute, pulling Celica to her feet.    
  
~*~   
  
They find her an hour later, sitting in a patch of grass behind the stables, hugging her knees to her chest. Silque finds her first, sitting in the grass beside her without a word, heedless of the inevitable stains on her habit. Faye doesn’t turn to look at her. She’s all out of tears. She’s just staring straight ahead, at the clouded, starless night.    
  
“I’m a terrible friend,” Faye mutters to empty air.    
  
“Why?” Silque asks, gently.    
  
Faye raises and lowers one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “...She kissed me.”   
  
Despite everything, Silque smiles. “Well, I can hardly blame her. She has excellent taste.”   
  
“Well, you can blame me,” Faye says, rueful. “Because I kissed her back.”   
  
Silque blows out a sigh. “...What do you want me to say, Faye? That I’m angry? Betrayed? Surprised, even? I’m not any of these things. Love isn’t possessive, Faye. And it’s  _ certainly _ not predictable. As I understand it, this isn’t the first time you’ve had these messy feelings, is it?”   
  
Faye groans, pawing at her face. “No, you’re right. I’ve been a mess for a long time.”   
  
“And yet you’re still here. Still fighting,” Silque reassures. “If only we could all persevere like you.”   
  
Faye manages a small smile. “...You always know what to say. You’re just like Celica.”   
  
“It’s the cleric in us, I imagine,” Silque chuckles.    
  
Faye takes a deep breath and blows it out in a sigh.    
  
“Silque, you know how I feel about you,” Faye begins. “But I think I’m also a little bit in love with Celica. And Alm, oh Mila, I don’t even know where to begin with him. Is that… Is that okay?”   
  
“You never need to ask permission to be in love,” Silque urges. She shrugs. “...Maybe you should ask permission before you  _ act _ on it. But even then, I don’t think this is anything we can’t be civil about. We just need to talk.”   
  
“What, all four of us?” Faye asks, dubious.    
  
“Someone once told me something,” Silque says. “She said ‘hearts aren’t pies to be cut into pieces. They’re like a hearth, and everyone can sit around them and still get warm.’”   
  
Faye scoffs. “And who told you that?”   
  
“Genny,” Silque smiles. “She’s young. But she’s wiser than she looks.”   
  
Faye heaves a sigh. “...Well. It’s a nice sentiment, but it won’t help me now. We’re leaving tomorrow. There’s no more time.”   
  
Silque titters, playful. “Well, I wouldn’t say that…”   
  
There’s a rustling in the grass behind them, and Faye scrambles to her feet. Celica emerges from the undergrowth, her deep red gown making her blend into the shadows. She conjures a wisp of fire that hovers obediently over her shoulder, and primly clasps her hands in front of her waist.    
  
“Hello, Faye,” Celica begins, carefully.    
  
The urge to flee surges through Faye’s limbs. She turns to run, but Silque catches her by the shoulders, keeping her steady.    
  
“No, no, I can’t, I can’t…” Faye mutters, anxiety buzzing in her chest.    
  
“Shhh,” Silque coos, squeezing Faye’s hands until her fingers stop shaking. “Let’s just hear what she has to say.”   
  
“Faye,” Celica begins, “I know you came here tonight to shake my hand and say goodbye. I know, the last time I left, you didn’t have time to prepare, and if we had to say goodbye again, you wanted to do it on your own terms. But there’s something that I want, Faye. It’s unfair, and it’s selfish, I know, but after what this war has put us through I feel like I deserve to be a little selfish for once.”   
  
“What do you want, Celica?” Faye asks.    
  
“ _ You _ ,” Celica says, and the truth of it burns a hole in her chest. “I want you, Faye. I want my best friend back. I want to make up for all the years apart. I want to know what we could have been, what we  _ almost _ were before I had to leave. I know I have no right to ask you this. If all you want to do is leave the past in the past and start fresh, I understand. I hurt you when I left, and if seeing me again now is just hurting you all over again, then I  _ understand _ .    
  
We aren’t who we were back then, and that’s not always a bad thing. You have a new life now, and I’m happy for you. But I’m also selfish, and human, and I don’t want to lose you, Faye. Not so soon after finding you again.   
  
I want to be part of your life, Faye. I don’t want ‘goodbye’ tomorrow to be goodbye forever. You were my best friend, maybe even more than that. I know we’re not there right now, and I don’t know if we can get there again, but I want to  _ try _ , Faye. I want… more time.”   
  
Faye takes a deep breath. She glances between Silque and Celica’s eyes, patient and pleading. Eventually, she reaches out, taking Celica’s hand in her own.    
  
“Celica,” Faye says with a squeeze, “I thought saying goodbye on my own terms would make it easier to leave. But it turns out, I didn’t want to say goodbye at all. I want you in my life, Celica. Believe me, I do. I just… don’t know how.”   
  
“I understand,” Celica nods.    
  
“I know that’s not what you want to hear,” Faye says. “But I need some time. To think.”   
  
“That’s okay,” Silque urges. “We still have time.”   
  
Faye nods mutely, squeezing Silque’s hand. She’s bridging the gap between Silque and Celica, a heart torn in two. But then Silque reaches across and closes the triangle with a hand on Celica’s shoulder.    
  
Celica looks up, and meets Silque’s eyes. She reaches up, and closes a hand over Silque’s on her shoulder, gently twining their fingers together.    
  
“...Can we bring this inside?” Celica asks. “Can we talk, all three of us? Maybe over tea?”   
  
“I would like that,” Silque smiles. “Faye?”   
  
Faye meets their eyes in turn. Eventually, she manages a small smile.    
  
“Yeah. Okay,” she says. “But this time,  _ I’m _ making the tea.”   
  
~*~   
  
In the end, Silque pushed back the beginning of her pilgrimage for another week, and Celica told her attendants to clear her schedule, all so Faye would finally have the time she needed to catch up with friends old and new. Silque would not deny her calling indefinitely, however. And on the morning she’d decided she and Faye would embark on their pilgrimage, there was a knock at their chamber door.    
  
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Silque nods.    
  
“Good  _ morning _ , Sister Silque,” Celica says, her cheeks pink. “D-Do you normally answer the door in just your shift and smallclothes?”   
  
Silque glances down and lets out a startled squeak.    
  
“...Only when I know who’s coming,” she says with a wince.    
  
“Who is it?” Faye calls from behind her.    
  
“It’s me!” Celica calls.    
  
Faye appears in the doorway, also in her shift, a hairbrush lodged in her tangled blond mane.    
  
“Celica!” Faye beams. “Come in, come in.”   
  
Celica steps inside, pulling the door shut behind her, as Silque scurries off to put on a pot of tea. A pair of traveling packs sit, half-full, by the door, with clothes and supplies scattered beside. Faye and Silque had been in the process of packing for their journey, transforming their room into just another guest room. But it was the little things that made it home; like the carved wooden idol of Mila sitting on the windowsill, Faye’s bow propped up against the foot of the bed, or Faye herself, sitting on her mattress and patting the spot beside her in invitation.    
  
Celica takes a seat on the bed, close enough their knees touch. They watch Silque, across the room, fussing with a teapot before hanging it on a peg by the fire.    
  
“It’s strange, seeing her without her headdress, right?” Faye murmurs, aside.    
  
“It’s stranger, seeing her in her underwear,” Celica teases. “That’s a side of Silque I’ve never seen before. Though I have to say, her habit does  _ nothing _ for her figure. I mean. Wow.”   
  
“No one’s asking you to  _ look _ , Celica,” Faye says with a playful shove. “So, what are you doing here?”   
  
“I came here to see you off,” Celica says.    
  
“Already? We’re not even packed,” Faye chuckles. “Eager to kick us out already?”   
  
Faye means it as a joke, but Celica still winces. “No, no. It’s just that, well, taking a week off from court means all that work just piled up without me. I’m gonna be in meetings all day. This is the only time I’ll be able to see you.”   
  
“That’s rough,” Faye says. “I’m glad you managed to stop by.”   
  
“I have something for you,” Celica begins.    
  
“Oh yeah?” Faye asks.   
  
Celica reaches under the hem of her nightgown and pulls out her necklace-- the broken haft of an arrow with uneven fletching, strung on a little leather cord.    
  
“You gave this to me, on the day I left,” Celica murmurs. “Do you remember what you said?”   
  
Faye bows her head, letting Celica slip the little charm around her neck.   
  
“I said… ‘an arrow with uneven fletching won’t fly straight. Maybe it will even come back around.’”   
  
“Come back to me,” Celica says softly, like a prayer. “Even if it’s just as a friend. Just tell me that ‘goodbye’ today isn’t goodbye forever. Come back to me, someday.”   
  
Faye leans forward until their foreheads are touching. She takes Celica’s hand with a squeeze.    
  
“I will,” Faye murmurs. “And I won’t make you wait six years this time. I promise.”   
  
Faye seals her promise with a chaste peck against the corner of Celica’s smile. They laugh, rubbing their noses together.    
  
“Oh, we’ll be back,” Silque announces, settling in on the edge of the bed. “And once we’re done healing our way across the nation, we’ll be back, and we’ll tell you  _ all _ about it.”   
  
Celica takes Silque’s hand and gives her a fond squeeze.    
  
“So, this is ‘good luck’, then,” Celica smiles. “Not ‘goodbye’.”   
  
Celica moves to stand up, but Faye doesn’t let her go.    
  
“Wait,” Faye says. “Would you like to… stay, just a little longer?”   
  
Celica blinks, glancing down to their bed. “...Here?”   
  
Faye nods, suddenly shy. Celica turns to Silque, who nods her assent.    
  
“Okay,” Celica breathes.    
  
She lets Faye gently ease her down onto the bed, before Faye curls up in front of her, guiding Celica’s arm around her waist. Silque settles in facing the two of them. She pulls the covers up around them all, her arm snaking across Faye’s collarbone and fitting snugly on Celica’s shoulder. There’s a brisk autumn breeze blowing in through the shutters, but together, the trio is blissfully warm.    
  
“Is this alright?” Celica murmurs, anxious, into the back of Faye’s throat.    
  
“It’s okay,” Faye coos, twining their fingers together with a squeeze. “We’re okay.”   
  
Celica smiles, bemused. “...You know… it’s one thing if you two are okay with putting off packing or I don’t mind keeping my court waiting. But Silque’s gonna have to get up any second now, as soon as that teapot starts whistling.”   
  
“It’s okay,” Silque says, serene.    
  
Her fingertips trace a languid trail against Celica’s cheek, down Faye’s arm, until her hand joins theirs in the warm, tangled pile.    
  
“We still have time.”   
  
~*~


End file.
